Into Me
by drama-princess
Summary: "You were a daisy-fresh girl and look what I did to you." Tom takes full possession of Ginny's life before facing Harry in the Chamber.


A/N: All characters are property of J.K. Rowling and are used without permission or profit. The quote at the end is a rather mangled version of the one from Vladimir Nabakov's Lolita. I don't own that either (shocking, I know!). Reviews are, as always, deeply appreciated.   
  
~-~  
  
So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very _boring. But there isn't much life in her. . . she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to make me leave its pages at last. . .   
~Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, by J.K. Rowling  
  
~-~  
  
**Into Me**  
  
by drama-princess  
  
~-~  
  
**_Ginny.  
_**_  
_It was scrawled across the page in a boy's careless script, so unlike her own loopy printing that spiraled with the g's and the y's of her name. G-i-n-n-y. Ginny looked down at the diary, her hair falling in a lank curtain of faded scarlet across the parchment. Her fingers tightened on the quill she held.   
  
**_Why. . . why are you writing to me? Where's Harry Potter?  
  
_**_You aren't going to write to him, Tom.   
  
**And why not, Ginny?  
**  
. . .   
  
_Ginny sucked in her breath before dipping the nib back into ink. Tom would be unhappy, he'd wanted to talk to Harry so badly. But she'd told Tom too many secrets. She'd whispered precious dreams she'd had. There were thoughts like music boxes and rag dolls, and she'd written about fresh blood on her hands. She wanted to play Quidditch like Bill one day, and feel the wind toss her braid of red hair. She wanted to marry Harry and wear a white dress. Feathers had spiraled in her hair.   
_  
I don't want you to--  
  
**To tell your secrets?**  
  
Y--y--  
  
_Ginny's hand trembled, and ink seeped from her motionless quill, blotting the page. Yes, that was it. She was afraid of Harry's laugh. She was. Except that it wasn't Harry she was afraid of, it was. . . someone else?  
  
**_Ginny?  
_**_  
You're my best friend, Tom.   
  
**So I am.  
  
**. . . Tom?  
  
**Do you trust me, Ginny?  
  
**_****Ginny's hands shook even harder, and she slammed the book shut. She put her face in her hands, feeling skin hot and dry beneath her fingertips. Her teachers kept sending to Madam Pomfrey. They were looking for a fever. There had to be some cause for Ginny's drained face and the purplish shadows under her eyes. Ginny swallowed the potions and stuck out her tongue, and didn't answer when Percy asked where she'd been. She bit her lip so hard she tasted the coppery blood at night. Ginny hated the way the metallic blood stuck on her tongue. She ate more sugar than ever.  
  
_Tom?  
  
**What's the matter, Ginny?  
  
**I keep dreaming about blood.  
  
**They were just roosters.**  
_  
_But what if I really am the one attacking everyone?  
  
**You don't have to worry. I'll take care of you. I'll protect you.  
  
**How?  
  
**Just close your eyes, dear.  
  
**_****Ginny put her fingers on the book. They were still trembling under the warm light of her bedroom, the nails bitten down to where she could see a thin crust of blood underneath. Her breath shuddered, her heart skipping madly under her secondhand robes. She traced a seam that ran under her arm.   
  
Tom had never laughed at her robes.  
  
Ginny hesitated for another moment, and then closed her eyes.  
  
~-~  
  
The stone slid behind her, the snakes winding around each other in the cold circle, hissing at the silent intruder. Ginny jerked awake, her shoulders shifting so abruptly it was as if she'd dislocated them. She grasped the diary a little more tightly in her hot little hand. Streaks of sweat glistened on the cover. Water pooled beneath Ginny's battered old shoes. She swallowed, hard against her tight throat, and opened her diary.  
  
_Tom?  
  
**Ginny. Where are you?  
  
**In. . . some place. It's cold. I don't like it here.  
  
**Describe it to me.  
  
**It's. . . wet. And there's stone, everywhere. And a giant face, and snakes. Tom, I'm scared, I don't want to be here!  
  
**Be quiet, you silly little girl, and let me think.  
  
**Tom!  
  
**Do you trust me, Ginny?  
  
**Y-y-yes.  
  
**I'm a friend you can carry around in your pocket?  
  
**Y-yes.   
  
**Good.  
  
**Tom, stop it! Stop it now!   
  
**Are those teardrops I see dripping down on the page, Ginny? Are you crying? Is your nose full of mucus? You always were filthy for a pureblood.  
  
**Tom, that's not funny!  
  
**Do your shoulders shake when you cry, Ginny?  
  
**Let me go!  
  
**You brought this on yourself, Ginny. Remember that.  
  
**_****Ginny watched in horror as a tall boy seemed to unfold from the yellowed pages of the diary. He shone oddly, his disheveled black hair falling over his forehead. Like Harry's, she thought dimly, as her throat scratched over horrified screams and she choked with fluttering sobs.   
  
Hello, Ginny, he said calmly. You won't recognize my name, but I'm Lord Voldemort. His lips tugged to the side and rose in a rich, dark, predatory smile. Perhaps you've heard of me? **_  
  
_**Ginny's eyes locked with Tom's for a moment until her body crumpled silently beneath her. She fell backwards almost noiselessly, the _swish_ of her robes and the soft _thud _of her shoes drowned out by the steady drip-drip-drip of the dirty water. She folded onto herself, her body, barely formed, arranging itself gracelessly on the stone floor. Tom knelt beside Ginny, his hand tracing the flame-red hair that was tied with pale blue ribbons. He idly caressed that cold cheek, those paper-thin, crumpled eyelashes before bending over and kissing the little girl on the lips.   
  
She was limp and useless beneath him, but Tom pressed harder with his lips, thrilling in the sensation that being alive. Her mouth, a little saliva glistening on those pursed lips. He took a deep, satisfied breath as he lifted the girl closer to him. Her body crushed against the old silver buttons of his Hogwarts uniform, and Tom was pleased by the way that her neck rolled back.   
  
He pushed his mouth against hers one more time, prying past the rows of almost grown teeth and chancing another stroke of his hand on her unformed chest. He hissed lowly as he broke the parody of the kiss, and rolled the girl onto her stomach. She lay there like a piece of broken porcelain, one arm fitted awkwardly into the curve of her side.   
  
Tom looked at Ginny and laughed scornfully.   
  
You were a daisy-fresh girl and look what I did to you, he said, his eyes gleaming in the dank light.   
  
  
_  
  
_  
  



End file.
